My Professor's Secret

44 |

"That's not why I came. You were right about Meghan. I hate that it took me so long to notice."

The words I'd been waiting so long for him to admit yet the gratification I expected to receive from them don't come. Instead, it's guilt that lingers. Chris goes on, to explain how Meghan's first stop after their argument was Trevor's house. According to her, and what Chris explains to me, she had an inkling of there still being something feasible between them. His words stung and I'm sure my face was evidence of that because if she still thought there was something between her and Trevor, he and I didn't stand a chance.

The only bright side there was to all of this was no matter what happened, I still had a nephew on the way.

"I say all of that to say I'm sorry for the way I exploded on you at the party. Guess it's just hard to fathom how this man has managed to swoon two of the most important women in my life. I was jealous and petty, and I'm sorry."

We talk a bit more and of the three free tickets Professor Thornton allotted us for the play, I'd given one to my brother. Oddly enough, his breakup with Meghan seemed to be convenient for our relationship. When he left, the heaviness in my chest—though still prevalent—wasn't as weighty as it had been at the start of the morning. I use that strength to gather my robe, luffa, and body wash, and head for the showers to ready myself for my shift at Hinkhouse.

To my dismay, the showers are jammed and crowded, though I manage to finesse a stall the moment someone slipped out.

It isn't as cold as it had been the past few weeks, or maybe it was because I no longer had to ride a bike or walk in the thicket of snow that had slowly begun disappearing. The restaurant is packed when I arrived, and I dread heading into the building after spotting an all too familiar black vehicle in the lot. What would I say to him? More importantly, how would I be able to look at him knowing Meghan had been in his apartment shortly after I had left? My reflection staring at me back in the rearview mirror appears exhausted. Though the layer of concealer I painted on my face this morning obscures the bags under my eyes, nothing can hide the redness still present in my eyes from all the crying I had done.

I head straight for the lounge to put my phone and keys in my cubby and grab my apron. I should've been on the floor ten minutes ago, but ever since Kevin found out about my dad's condition, he never made a big deal about me showing up late. All I could think of was my bed and the regret of getting out of it this morning. There's a bench in the lounge and instead of going on the floor to punch in, I sit. Mainly to compose myself as I contemplated returning home before Trevor noticed my arrival—which isn't long as footsteps approached.

"Is this how it's gonna be now?" He says, sitting beside me on the bench. "I saw you walk in and you didn't say anything to me. I make the conscious decision that keeps both of us safe, and I get the silent treatment?"

If he hadn't been so caught up in himself, he would have noticed that my attention was focused elsewhere—albeit on avoiding him—but more specifically getting to the lounge. I genuinely hadn't noticed him but it was obvious he wanted a reaction out of me as his eyes roam my body even as I pick myself off of the bench and in the direction of the kitchen. What did he want from me? To hear me plead for things between us to have turned out differently?

"If minding my business and staying to myself has given you the impression of the silent treatment, I apologize, but I'm choosing to do what's best for me. Not to mention it was you who said we shouldn't be seen talking to each other unless it was necessary. A hello is far from that," If I hadn't seized the initiative to make my way toward the kitchen, I'd have burst to tears right in front of him. If not for that, I would've exploded on him and demanded he divulges me in the conversation I know he had with Meghan after I'd left.